


Tabula Rasa

by PaulHeymanGirl



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Implied Relationships, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-02-15 00:45:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2209293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaulHeymanGirl/pseuds/PaulHeymanGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Under normal circumstances, Dean Ambrose is not the sort of guy to forget that someone he considered a brother stabbed him in the back, abandoned him and then drove his head through a pile of cement blocks.  But, let's be honest, when has the WWE ever featured "normal circumstances?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is not how amnesia really works and wrestling logic can be a funny thing that isn't actually logical, so some suspension of disbelief is required. In exchange you get angst and stupid boys being stupid. Deal? Good.

Hunter had been waiting all morning, after all he was the first one they called with the news.  As soon as it broke he knew what reaction to expect.  So, he didn’t even flinch when, during a meeting with Kane, a visibly pissed off Seth Rollins practically kicked in his office door, charging in without an invitation.

“How the hell did you lose him?” Seth demanded.

Hunter sighed, putting a hand to his temple.  “Seth, calm down.  It’s under control.”

Seth shook his head, bits of bleached hair coming loose from his ponytail and starting to frizz.  “No, no, this is not the time to calm down. Hunter, I kicked Ambrose’s head into a pile of cinder blocks last night.  I know that guy, I know how he works.  If he was mad at me before, he is going to be out for blood now.”

“And obviously we’re not going to let that happen,” Hunter said.  “You’re an important asset, Seth.  You’re Mr. Money in the Bank.  There is no way we are going to let some crazed dog off his leash like this.”

“This is insane,” Seth said, pacing the office.  “Anyone else would have been out cold after that.  But Ambrose?  No.  He won’t give up.  And even if we’d ever been able to reason with him, now he’s on some kind of personal crusade…”

“Reason with him?” Kane asks.  “What exactly do you mean by that?”

Seth stopped, looking towards Kane but not exactly at him, almost like he was trying to look for something hanging in the air over the Director of Operations head.  “If we could’ve made him a deal when this all started.”

Kane looked towards Hunter.  “I wasn’t aware that was ever an option.”

“It wasn’t,” Hunter said.  “Reigns we could have considered, he’s got the pedigree and, more importantly, we could be reasonably sure he could follow orders.  Ambrose was never even considered as a potential Authority acquisition.”

“But if we’d done something before,” Seth said.  “If we’d moved faster on it, before he completely broke down.  We could have convinced him.  I could have convinced him.”

“You know, Seth,” Hunter leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk, “I sometimes have to wonder- hold on,” he interrupted as his cell phone began to go off and he reached to answer it.  “Hunter,” he said.  

Seth crossed his arms as much as he could, impeded by his ever-present briefcase.  Kane nodded to the other empty chair, but Seth just shook his head in response.  Sitting felt dangerous.  Staying in the same place for too long felt dangerous.  Saying Dean’s name out loud was starting to feel dangerous, like a curse, and that was an entirely uncomfortable change.

A highly interested “Oh, really?” from Hunter grabbed Seth’s attention.  Followed by “Yes, of course.  Thank you for letting me know.  I’ll take care of it.”

He smiled as he ended the call.  “Well, gentlemen, it looks like our luck just turned around.”

 

Seth would have refused to come along, was in the process of doing just that, actually, until Hunter said the words “hospital” and “sedated.”  He also just kind of smirked when Seth asked for more information, which Rollins knew was just to irritate him into seeing for himself.

The orderlies and assorted medical staff gave them quick, strange looks as they walked through the overly bright hallways in their dark suits.  The looks became concerned the closer they got to their destination, when people realized those three men in suits were headed for That Room.

Hunter opened the door and gestured for the other two to enter.  Seth let Kane go in first, expecting ranting and threats at the very least.  Even a sedated Ambrose was likely to at least spit in his direction.

To his surprise, though, that wasn’t the case.  Dean was reclined in his hospital bed, eyes squinting a little against the brightness.  He rolled his head to the side, looking from Hunter, who was trailing behind and closing the door, to Kane, to Seth.

He blinked again before finally asking “Do I know you guys?”

  
“Wait.  Wait,” Seth said, looking at the doctor skeptically.  “Amnesia?”

The doctor nodded, pushing her glasses back up to the bridge of her nose.  “From the state of his injuries, it was likely caused by either a head injury or a traumatic event.  If not both.  They found him wandering around earlier this morning, no idea who he was and no ID on him at all and he put up a fight before they could get him here.”

“He doesn’t remember anything?” Kane asked, sceptically.

“He remembers some things,” the doctor said.  “It’s not as if he’s a tabula rasa.  But any information on his identity, acquaintances, loved ones, it seems to be gone.  Once they had him sedated and the fight went out of him we couldn’t even be sure if he’s retained traces of his personality.”

“What?” Seth asked.  “So he’s not...him...anymore?”

The doctor smiled sadly.  “Unfortunately we can’t tell you that.  The only way to find out is for him to spend time with people who knew him and are willing to help him.  But I do have to warn you: it’s not likely he’ll ever regain his memory.”

“Don’t worry,” Hunter said, smiling down at her.  “We’ll take very good care of him.”

The doctor, satisfied, nodded and walked off.  Seth watched her, waiting until she was out of earshot to finally ask Hunter “What do you mean we’ll take care of him?”

Hunter put an arm around Seth’s shoulders.  “Seth, Dean Ambrose is a man who has lost everything,” he said, the false sincerity apparent in his voice.  “And what kind of employer would I be if I didn’t offer to take him in and help him in this time of need?”

Seth looked at him in confusion, but it was Kane who spoke up.  “I think I see exactly where you’re going with this, Hunter.  And I like it.”

“And Seth, you were the one who was talking about wishing we’d cut Ambrose a deal!” Hunter continued.  “But we both know the OLD Ambrose would never have accepted anything like that.  He was too chaotic, too unpredictable.”

Kane chimed in.  “But a new Ambrose, one who we were able to steer in a better direction…”

Seth tensed, confused by his own reaction to the idea: more excited by it than he should have been, less excited than he was supposed to be.  “You want to convince him he’s one of us.”

“Clean him up,” Kane said.

“Lie to him,” Seth said, not challenging but obviously not pleased.

“Not lying,” Hunter said.  “History diverged when your boys decided to bite the hand that fed them.  The Shield turned on The Authority, you went down one path.  Say that never happened.  Say we give Dean the truth, but we also give him a version of the truth that we’ve adjusted.  Select bits of history with some liberal interpretation of events.”

Seth was quiet for a moment as he thought.  “You mean, how he was in on Plan B the whole time.  How Roman was holding us both back.”  He smiled slightly, the potential laying itself out in front of him, pieces fitting together.  The mixed feelings were mostly gone, replaced by that safe feeling of building his plan.  “We’ve got footage to support that.  Show him where I thought the breakdown was going to happen, where they were at each other’s throats.” He nodded, his face breaking out into an unmistakably devious smile.

“It’s for his own good,” Hunter insisted.  “Before Dean didn’t have the sense to buy in like you did.  But this way, we can do for him what we did for you.  Help him see the light. You can help him do it.  What was it you said earlier?  That you could have convinced him?  This is your chance to do that.  And, uh, make sure you have a trustworthy bodyguard for that golden case of yours.”

Seth looked down at the briefcase.  “And there’s kind of a poetic justice to the whole deal.”

Hunter looked back towards the closed door to Dean’s room.  “No better time to start than right now.”

 

Seth went in alone this time.  The second he did, Dean rasped out “You’re back.”

“Yeah,” Seth said, closing the door.  “How’re you doing?”

“Head hurts like a bitch,” Dean said.  “They said it looked like I’d been in a car crash and I’d wandered away.”  He grimaced, Seth recognized the look of frustration on his face, at least that piece of the Old Dean was still there.

“Hey, don’t worry,” Seth said, sitting down in one of the plastic chairs beside the bed.  “It’ll come back to you.  I’m sure.”

Dean raised his head suddenly, wincing at the pain, and looked directly at Seth.  “I don’t really remember you, but...we know each other, right?  ‘Cause I look at you and I feel like…”

“You wanna punch my face in?” Seth asked.

“Nah,” Dean said.  “More like.  Like I can trust you.  Like I did trust you.”

Seth fought to keep his face straight as he answered “You did.  And you still can.”

Dean raised his eyebrows.  “Well, trust guy, how about we start with a name?”

Seth reached out his hand “I’m Seth.  Rollins.”

Dean looked down at his hand and for a moment Seth thought he was gonna have to explain handshakes.  Then Dean said, with a mildly delighted snarl, “I meant mine.”

Seth couldn’t help but smile.  “Dean,” he said.  “Your name is Dean Ambrose.  And you’re my friend.  You’ve been my friend for a long time.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gets cleaned up, Seth pulls some dirty tricks, Roman isn't sure what's actually going on and Triple H shills for the Network in the middle of a fanfic.

The process of getting Dean discharged was completed in a whirlwind. Papers signed and doctor’s instructions received, but also Hunter calling someone to bring new clothes for Dean to wear when they left, as he wrinkled his nose at the sight of the remnants of Dean’s shirt and jeans from the night before. Through it all, Seth kept close to Dean. He’d been expecting a barrage of questions, but Dean was strangely silent and calm. Seth wasn’t sure if he was still feeling the sedatives or if this was going to be the new Ambrose status quo.

But, he reminded himself, that was the goal, wasn’t it? Taming Dean Ambrose. Making sure he only unleashed that fury of his when it was, Seth made himself think it, when it was best for business.

“How’re you doing?” Seth finally asked, for some reason suddenly not wanting to be alone with his thoughts.

“Head feels better,” Dean said. “Problem is, that’s making me realize what else hurts. What the hell was I doing?”

Hunter shot Seth a look, he takes that as a sign that this is the point to begin introducing carefully selected bits of truth and history. “You were in a fight,” Seth said. “You got the worse end of things.”

Dean kind of rolled his eyes and looked up at the ceiling. “Yeah. That sounds familiar. I do that a lot?”

“More than you probably should,” Seth answered. “But I’m not always that much better.” Off of the look Kane shot the two of them, Seth continued, “None of us really are.”

Dean looked like he was about to ask something else, but just then Hunter approached and shoved a garment bag-draped hanger and several boxes at Ambrose. “These’ll do until we get something custom.”

Dean looked at him with apprehension. “This is definitely not the kinda thing I was wearing when they hauled me in..”

Seth shook Dean’s shoulder gingerly. “We’ll talk about that. Later. Now you should maybe put on some pants.”

Ambrose accepted the items slowly and the tension around the group rose slightly. Then, he stood up and shrugged. “If you guys say so.”

When Dean emerged from his room again, Seth couldn’t help but smirk and nod in approval. One of those things about Dean people could forget was that, while he tended towards jeans and stretched out tops and leather jackets, he looked just fine in a decent suit. Seth had heard people say that Dean “cleaned up well” but it wasn’t like that, it wasn’t even that Dean didn’t like wearing suits. They’d talked about it during a long road trip, sometime between stopping for food and the fight over how All Time Low was a totally acceptable band for a grown man to listen to and just because those two assholes didn’t realize it and Roman laughing far too hard at Seth’s insistence...

He stopped that train of thought there. “That’s the Dean I know.”

Dean pulled at the cuffs of his suit jacket, not uncomfortably but more as if he were trying to recognize the feel and the motion. “Feels better than I thought it would.” He twisted his neck and grimaced a little, as if testing himself out.

“Once we get you measured and tailored it should feel more natural,” Hunter said. “I got a few others in the same measurements as this one for you to wear in the meantime. They’re back at your hotel room.”

“I have a hotel room?” Dean asked.

“Well, you’re sharing it with Seth here,” Hunter nodded towards Rollins. “Like you usually do. Gotta keep that golden ticket of his safe.” Hunter tapped a finger on the briefcase. “Seth’ll explain the rest to you. Maybe show you some footage, all for the low, low price of $9.99.”

 

When they got back to the hotel and Dean saw the pile of things Hunter had delivered for him, he let out a low whistle. “It’s almost like I’m some kind of big deal.”

“Not almost,” Seth said. He’d started the explanations on the way over, sitting in the back of a limo and laying the groundwork. Dean had seemed to accept most of it, mostly looking distressed right before he admitted that he still didn’t recall anything. “I told you. You and I made a decision together. To buy in and get what we deserved.”

Dean side-eyed Seth. “Buy in?”

Seth sat down on the second bed. “Make an unpopular decision that-”

“Yeah, I get the gist,” Dean said. “Just sounds more like a personal justification for bullshit than anything else.”

“We were justified,” Seth said, his voice even and serious. “I can show you.”

He’d figured from the beginning that the important part of his carefully curated list of The Shield's Greatest Hits was the order he exposed Dean to them. Chronological order wasn’t the important part. This was Ambrose, at least ostensibly it was and there were enough small things Seth had noticed to imply at least subconsciously there was a lot of the old Dean left to work with. And what was it he’d pointed out at one time? That Dean wasn’t about logic. Dean was about heart and passion and emotion.

So he started out with their arrival at Survivor Series, the early backstage undisclosed location videos and their first actual match at TLC. Not long into that, Dean blinked in surprise and confessed “I remember how to do that. I mean, I don’t remember how I know it or doing it that night. But I can remember how.”

Seth clapped his hand down on Dean’s shoulder and squeezed. “Instinct. You’re a fighter. I figure you could forget everything else you’ve ever known and still remember just how to do that,” he nodded at his tablet screen just as it cut to footage of the two of them suicide diving between the ring ropes.

Next was Dean’s US Championship win at Extreme Rules. Seth glanced at Dean’s face, just long enough to see the grin breaking out after the three count, before he looked back and watched himself literally tackle Dean in a celebratory hug. He waited until the shot where Dean was perched on his and Roman’s shoulders before he paused the video.

Once he did, Dean asked “So, what about that Roman Reigns? I mean, he ain’t here. And you haven’t brought him up before. What happened to our whole brotherhood gig?”

Seth pulled his hand away from Dean’s quickly. “We can get to that later. You’ve been through enough today.” He glanced at the screen, letting the fake concern and reluctance do their job.

“No,” Dean said. “I gotta know what this guy...what we did to him. Or what he did to us. ‘Cause I’m lookin’ at those three guys and I don’t see why there’s not three of us here right now.”

“There were never really three of us,” Seth said. “It was always about Roman Reigns.” TLC the following year, Roman spearing Ambrose to cost them the match, then to YouTube for the night on RAW when Punk was picking them apart, when he called Ambrose the “weak link.” Then the Rumble, Reigns eliminating both of them with a shrug.

“That son of a bitch,” Ambrose yelled.

Seth couldn’t help but laugh. Dean shot him an almost offended look, and Seth quickly said “That was exactly what you said then, too. And exactly the way you said it” He dropped the smile. “But that’s the point. It was always about Roman Reigns. About him getting what he thought he deserved and using the two of us to get it. He is manipulative, self-serving and never gave a damn about us.” Seth was shocked at how honest the words sounded coming from his mouth. “Every time we were saying ‘Believe in the Shield,’ he was thinking ‘Believe in Roman Reigns.’

“Still says it, actually. He threw us out. Kicked us to the curb and kept using everything we’d built for himself.” Seth looked Dean in the eyes, the growing anger in them seeming to cloud them with more grey than usual. “And the moment he finds out what happened to you? He’ll try it again. He’ll try to turn you against me, to convince you to take his side. But he doesn’t care about you, Dean. Not like I do.”

Dean nodded in response and the look on his face was so set, so ready to believe all of it, that Seth was starting to believe some of it himself. He started up another video and sat back, nodding confidently.

As of the beginning of RAW on Monday night, Triple H hadn’t announced anything new regarding Dean’s condition. He knew the reaction he wanted from the crowd that night, and by damn he was going to get it.

“And you’re sure that Seth Rollins has this under control?” Stephanie asked as they walked through the back hallways of the arena, heading for gorilla.

“Completely. In the past week I haven’t heard one thing from Seth to indicate the plan isn’t working out,” Hunter straightened his tie and suit jacket.

Stephanie reached up and helped him. “So, either everything is fine or they’ve killed each other.”

“In which case we just send someone in to retrieve the briefcase and call it even.” Hunter smiled down at his wife.

Steph grinned back at him. “That’s why I love you, you’re so...thorough.”

They kissed just as Hunter’s music began to blare. Then, arm in arm, they entered the arena to a chorus of “boos.” Both of them simply smiled, Stephanie giving a graceful wave to the audience as they walked down the ramp.

Once in the ring, Hunter gestured for a mic. He let the crowd calm down before beginning. “Now, since the events that ended Monday Night Raw last week, I’ve had a lot of questions sent my way about the status of one particular WWE Superstar.” He paused for effect. “And I am out here to tell you right now to update you on that situation. I’m pleased to report that not only is he at 100%, he is here in the arena tonight.”

The crowd cheered in response.

Hunter, pleased with himself, gestured to the stage. “So, please give a warm welcome to….Mr. Money in the Bank, Seth Rollins.”

As Seth’s music hit, the cheers quickly turned to boos from those in attendance. Seth, dressed in a black on black suit, hair neatly pulled back and briefcase firmly in his grip, stepped onto the stage. As his music died, chants of “You sold out!” began, and Seth as usual met them with a derisive grin.

“We’ve been over this,” he announced into his own mic. “We’ve been over this again and again. What is it that you people just aren’t getting? I bought in. And any of you would have done the same thing. Anyone with any amount of sense would have done the same thing. So you go ahead, you boo me and you cheer for those losers who missed their chance.”

That was all it took. The crowd’s chants immediately turned to “WE WANT AMBROSE! WE WANT AMBROSE!”

“You know, Seth,” Hunter said. “I think they have good idea. Let’s give them what they want. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Mr. Rollins’ personal enforcer, Dean Ambrose.”

The crowd’s reaction was total confusion when a lone figure emerged from backstage.

Dean claimed he hadn’t been able to see the difference once they’d gotten him a tailored suit, but Seth had reacted with approval. Seth had also been the one who did the instructing when it came to the shoes, tie and even Dean’s hair, which was trimmed and slicked back once again. And if the crowd reaction threw him off even slightly he didn’t show it, just stepped out beside Seth, who spread his arms and welcomed Dean officially back with a hug.

The dissent from the crowd was deafening. Neither Dean nor Seth looked shaken, instead heading down to the ring and standing in solidarity with The Authority. Hunter shook Dean’s hand, offering a few words of approval for the suit. Stephanie shook his hand as well, doing her best to look warm and genuine. Finally, Dean took his place beside Seth, clasping his hands in front of himself comfortably.

The tableau lasted only moments before Hunter spoke again. “So you see? You can put your fears to rest. Because everything is working out in a way that’s best for…”

The music cue that interrupted wasn’t entirely unanticipated. Stephanie, Hunter and Seth all immediately turned to look into the audience, Dean following suit an instant later. Eyes scanned the crowd until they could see Roman Reigns emerging onto the arena stairs, stepping down a few levels before stopping and raising the mic to his mouth.

“I’ve heard enough,” he said. “But Hunter, Seth, you’re not fooling me and you’re not fooling anyone here in this crowd tonight. And Dean, I don’t know what they did to you…”

Seth felt Dean grab the mic out of his hand before he could react, a dark-clothed blur heading for the turnbuckle closest to Reign’s position. “What they did to me?” he demanded. “You don’t know what they did to me? They were the ones who found me in a hospital bed. They were the ones who came looking for me. Where the hell were you? Huh? Where the hell were you when my ass got kicked? When I was wandering around Vegas looking like I got smashed against a brick wall?” He stopped, taking a few breaths.

Roman’s look was incredulous. “Look, Dean, I’m sorry. I know I promised I wouldn’t get involved, maybe I should have before things got that bad. I didn’t want to break that promise to you, maybe I should have. But you can’t mean that stuff you’re saying. How do you not know...Rollins down there,” he pointed at Seth. “Rollins was the one who beat you until they had to carry you out on a stretcher.”

“Don’t try to confuse him, Roman,” Seth broke in, another mic in his hand. “Dean Ambrose knows whose side he’s on here.”

“That’s right,” Dean rasped. “You ran off chasing titles and getting these people to cheer for you and it didn’t do you any good. Because Seth Rollins is my brother. Seth Rollins is Mr. Money in the Bank. Seth Rollins is gonna be the next WWE Champion. I’m gonna make sure of that. And I’m gonna make sure some backstabber like you never gets a chance to take it from him.”

Seth grinned darkly up at Roman. “Believe that.” Seth said, dropping his mic.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That's not a plan, this is not a crisis and do you want to guess how much that beer from the minibar costs?

It wasn’t long before everyone backstage could hear Roman Reigns roaring out Seth’s name over and over again, pounding on doors and demanding to know where “the little bleach-fried weasel” was. It was loud enough that he basically announced himself three minutes before barging into The Authority’s backstage offices, hair whipping around as he scanned the room.

But the only person there was Hunter, and he just looked amused.

“What kinda game are you playing?” Roman demanded, standing with his own face just scant inches from the COO’s.

Hunter let out a short laugh. “Game? That’s very funny, all things considered. I mean, with my nickname and all. I would not have pegged you for having that kind of sense of humor.”

“I’m not joking,” Roman said. “Now where the hell are they?”

“If you mean Mr. Rollins and Mr. Ambrose, I’ve given them the night off,” Hunter said. “Dean’s in no condition to wrestle tonight. And that’s only taking into account the physical injuries. If you want to add the retrograde amnesia in on top of that….”

Reigns narrowed his eyes. “So that’s it? He blanks on who he is so you can rewrite him as your corporate flunkie?”

“Me? No,” Hunter said. “Seth’s actually taking care of that. Doing a bang-up job, too.”

“It won’t work,” Roman said. “Eventually he’s gonna see the footage, he’s gonna find out what really happened.”

“Who’s show do you think this is?” Hunter asked. “You’re forgetting who you’re talking to. You’re talking to the guy who, just a few hours ago, told the production trucks that there is to be absolutely no footage shown of Seth’s attack on Dean. Or, really, anything between the two of them since your little Boy Scout Troop fell apart.”

Roman didn’t so much as flinch. “He’s not gonna let you do this. Not the Dean Ambrose I know.”

“But he’s not the Dean Ambrose you know,” Hunter said, bemused. “Surprisingly, he’s really taking to the new version we’re working on. Almost like he craves approval. Or, what’s the word?” He pretended to think about it for a few seconds. “Ah, brotherhood. But you know, I’ve gotta wonder, if it all doesn’t have something to do with him feeling abandoned even before he got his skull cracked.”

This time, Roman took a step back. “What?”

“Well, he said it. You weren’t exactly there when he was getting his face smashed in. You haven’t actually been there for him at all. You’ve been busy with Randy Orton and title matches and slipping things into my wife’s coffee. It’s almost like you didn’t care what happened to Dean Ambrose.” Hunter shrugged. “Funny thing was, even when they couldn’t stand each other, Seth did care. Dean was all he could think about. So now, I’ve eliminated that distraction.”

“So how are you planning to eliminate this one?” Roman nodded, clearly indicating himself.

Hunter, still with that damn smirk on his face, said “Long term, I figure either your former boys finally beat you down or you wise up and get back on the same side with them. Short term? I’m putting you in a match against Cesaro. No DQ.”

 

“He was lying, right?”

They’d been sitting pretty much silently since they arrived in the skybox Hunter had reserved for them, and Seth hadn’t been expecting that to be what broke it up. “Who, Roman?”

“Yeah,” Dean said. “He said you were the one who…”

“I told you he’s a liar,” Seth interrupted.

“You did,” Dean said. “But something just doesn’t add up. Why would he think I’d believe that lie? I mean, how would he know about all this?” Dean waved his hands around his head and gave Seth his best wide, crazy eyes.

Seth’s fists clenched reflexively at the sight. “Okay, look. It’s maybe a little more complicated than I let you think.”

Dean looked out towards the ring. “Are we the bad guys?”

His voice was momentarily so pained that Seth instinctively stepped closer to him. “It’s never that black and white.”

“Feels like it can be,” Dean said. “Feels like that was important to me at one point.”

“We’ve done some bad things,” Seth confessed. “I won’t deny that. I mean, you saw some of it. We’ve hurt people.” He wanted to stop, but the words kept coming. “But this time? Nobody was supposed to get hurt. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything. People were just supposed to be able to let go. Nobody was really supposed to care that much about any of it, about anyone else. And now I’m just afraid it’s only going to get worse, that next time someone gets hurt...”

“Hey. Nobody got hurt,” Dean said. “Except me and apparently my head’s hard enough to take it.” He put his hands on the sides of Seth’s face, the way they always had when they’d anchored each other in the ring. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“Right,” Seth said, trying not to meet Dean’s eyes. “Everything’s good. According to plan.”

 

In the months since The Shield split up, Roman had been forced to admit he was very, very bad at plans. Generally, he went with “punch them in the face” and he’d confessed as much on a few occasions, usually resulting in Seth telling him that was not actually a plan and Dean compromising: it was technically a plan but they could probably do better.

Tonight he really could have done better. And in hindsight, he should have seen it coming the second Hunter said “No DQ.” Should have known that, after he and Cesaro had beaten the hell out of each other, after he’d stood up from two European Uppercuts, after he hit the Superman Punch and just as he was about to score the pinfall, he was going to get screwed.

The flurry of punches that connected with his shoulders and head had to be Ambrose. He’d seen the man throw them enough that he knew nobody else could hit that erratically and that effectively. The kicks to his lower back and, after he rolled over, to his gut and chest were all Rollins.

He knew he could get up and take them both out. And he wanted Seth’s head on a damn pike for this. But Dean? It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know. Could Roman really punch his face in over this when he didn’t know what he really doing?

The indecision led to inaction. Which led to first a Curb Stomp and then, after Dean and Seth stood him back up, a Dirty Deeds, driving him face-first into the mat.

He was gonna need to punch a lot of people on Smackdown to make up for this.

 

Later, back at the hotel, Seth Rollins was absolutely not having a crisis.

He was flopped on his back in his bed, earbuds plugged in and music turned up loud, drowning out the sound of Dean puttering around in the bathroom. But not actually loud enough to make it difficult for him to think, which was the effect he’d been going for.

He’d put in extra time in the gym tomorrow, he decided. Crossfit high. Extra burpees. That would take your mind off of anything other than how much burpees suck.

There had to be something to shut off his own words replaying in his head.

_I’m better than some Lunatic Fringe who doesn’t give a damn about his physical well-being. I’m better than some bipolar nutjob who should be locked away. I’m better than some hellcat with rabies who was never my friend, who was never my brother, and who I never gave a damn about in the first place_.

Frustrated, Seth pulled out his earbuds and tossed his iPod onto the bedside table. No, no this was not happening. If this was going to happen, it wasn’t allowed to be until he had the WWE Title around his waist, a guaranteed Hall of Fame spot and a new tee-shirt every damn month. But it was not going to happen now. Regret was something you saved for your career retrospective DVD.

“You okay?” Dean asked, emerging from the bathroom.

“Yeah,” Seth said. “Decompressing.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Dean said. “But I don’t think we have any beer.”

“Check the mini-bar,” Seth suggested. “It’s not like we’re paying for it.”

Dean opened the mini-bar and pulled an impressed face before grabbing himself a bottle of Bud Light. “You want anything?”

“I’m good,” Seth said.

After a swig of beer, Dean swung his leg, tapping his foot against Seth’s Money in the Bank briefcase. “So, when are we making sure you can cash this in?”

Seth sat up on the bed. “Are you kidding? Have you seen the current champion? Brock Lesnar will actually eat the briefcase if I try to cash in. As in physically take a giant bite out of it. I figure I’ll just wait until John Cena manages to Hustle Loyalty Respect his way back to the top, then I just smack him with something and call it a day.”

“Cool, then we’re just laying low for now,” Dean said.

“Well, you know, there’s always what you want,” Seth said.

Dean shrugged. “I just wanna make sure you get what you deserve.”

Seth almost shuddered at those words because they were exactly what Dean was saying to him a little over a week ago. But the twist, the fact that now Dean meant it in a sincere way. No, wait, he’d been sincere before, but sincere specifically about damn near killing them both. Now it was sweet. Too loyal. Kind of pathetic. And stupid.

Seth was not going to admit what he was feeling.

“Maybe I’ll take care of Reigns,” Dean suggested. “He deserves more than what we gave him tonight. But you’re still priority number one.” The smile that followed was still too calm, too loyal, too much. Not enough Lunatic Fringe in any of it, the guy he and Roman used to have to talk down before matches in case he snapped.

Heartbreak, Seth thought. That feeling he was failing to avoid was heartbreak.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything goes according to plan and there are no surprises.
> 
> (Actually, that's a lie, there will probably be surprises)

Burpees did help, just not for long.

There was a very short moment of peace and quiet in Seth’s head when he collapsed to the floor, breathing hard and sweating as he stared up at the gym ceiling.  That moment was shattered when he was suddenly looking up at the face of the WWE COO.

“Gah!” he yelled, though with the shortness of breath it came out strangled, like he was gagging.

“Whoa, settle down,” Hunter said, squatting down beside Rollins.  “It’s just me.”

“What are you doing here?” Seth asked, still huffing.

“Just checking in,” Hunter said.  “You’ve got a big project in the works and I’m very invested in the results.”

“It’s fine.  No changes since last night,” Seth forced himself to sit up.

“Not even after everything with Reigns?” Hunter’s voice didn’t actually register any noticeable concern.

“No,” Seth said, frustration seeping into his voice.  “Look, I’d tell you if there was a problem with Dean.  But he’s totally fine.  Accepting all of it, determined to see me cash in, completely declawed.”

Hunter pursed his lips and shrugged.  “Okay.  That’s fair.”  He paused for a moment.  “But I’m not actually concerned about any problems with Dean.  I’m more concerned about problems with you.”

“No, I’m...I’m good.  Just a little extra push in the workout today.”

“Not exactly what I meant.”  Hunter stood back up, pulling his serious face.  “There were some...concerning things...overheard last night while you and Ambrose were in that private box together.”

Seth tilted his head in confusion.  “Wasn’t it supposed to be a  private  box?”

“Privacy is open to interpretation,” Hunter said.  “You see, the observer may have heard statements you made that could be interpreted as evidence you’re having doubts.  About your current project.  And about certain recent choices in your life that have resulted in more money and prestige than you’ve seen before in your life and a promise of more to come.”

“I don’t regret turning on The Shield,” Seth said.  “And I absolutely do not regret signing on with The Authority.”

“Yeah, that’s the thing,” Hunter said.  “You keep saying that.  But you also kept telling Dean Ambrose over and over again that he never actually meant anything to you.  But you know, when we were rewatching the footage of that incident with the bricks?  It was almost like you were showing concern afterward.  Maybe even remorse.  Makes me wonder what you’ve really been thinking this whole time and who exactly you’re trying to convince with all that grandstanding.”  He patted the top of Seth’s head, condescending.  “I’ll see you at Smackdown.”

 

If his phone went off one more time, Roman Reigns was going to smash his fist through the driver’s side window of his rental car.

The problem wasn’t even that the same person kept calling over and over again and leaving voicemail after voicemail, it was that he still had that damn personal ringtone set and he kept reflexively trying to reach out and answer.  How many months was it going to take him to stop doing that?

With an exasperated growl he finally picked up.  “You’ve got a lot of nerve to be calling me right now,” he said.  “And it’s only because I wanna know how much nerve that I answered.  You’ve got 30 seconds to convince me not to hang up.”

Seth’s voice was hushed, his words too quick.  “Somebody has it out for me.”

“Yeah, a lot of people do” Roman said.  “You’re talking to the guy who’s currently at the top of that list.”

“No,” Seth said.  “Someone in The Authority.  They have it out for me and Dean.”

He would have hung up if Seth hadn’t brought Dean into this, and he was sure Seth knew that.  “Are you sure you’re not just paranoid?”

Seth seethed.  “Of course I’m paranoid, but I’m also right.  Someone overheard us talking on Monday night.  They got some crazy idea that I regret turning on you guys.”

“This is some kind of set-up, isn’t it?” Roman asked.  “This is you trying to lure me into something because you can’t fight your own damn battles anymore.”

“When did any of us fight our own damn battles?” Seth snapped back.  “We were just as bad…”

“No,” Roman interrupted.  “Yeah, we screwed people bad and we played the numbers game, but we were fighting The Shield’s battles.”   
“Or the battles of whoever’s payroll we were on,” Seth said.  

“They were our battles,” Roman said. “Point is, we stood for something.  For each other.  But I guess that never meant anything to you, right?”

Seth was silent for a moment too long before saying “I mean it when I say I don’t regret it.”

“Right,” Roman laughed.  “That’s why things go to hell and your first phone call is to me.  Nah. I’m gonna keep Dean’s ass safe, I still owe him that.  But as far as I’m concerned, your new buddies can screw you over just like they have everyone else in their lives.”  He hung up the call and tossed his phone over to the passenger’s seat, hoping to kill the temptation to pick up again if Seth called back.

It wasn’t a problem.  He didn’t.

 

“Mr. Reigns,” Kane boomed when they first saw each other at the arena.  “I’m glad to see you.”

Roman just glared.

“I wanted to let you know that the COO has decided you’ll be in action tonight.  In a handicap match,” Kane’s condescending grin was making Roman’s fist clench.

“Big surprise,” Roman said.

“No, no surprises tonight,” Kane said.  “I’m letting you know right now that you’ll be facing off against Seth Rollins and Dean Ambrose.”

“What, you don’t get to babysit Rollins anymore?  That’s all on Dean?” Roman asked.

“I wouldn’t call my previous actions ‘babysitting,’” Kane said.  “More just...making sure Seth didn’t actually do something he’d regret.”

Roman started to walk away, then paused, looked back at Kane, then resumed his walk to the locker room.

 

Seth paced the ring, not taking his eyes off of Roman who had yet to move.  In his head he pled for the larger man to move, to do something.  Finally, Seth rushed forward, locking up with Reigns.

Reigns grabbed his shoulders and leaned in.  “It’s Kane,” he hissed.

“What?” Seth asked, keeping his voice just as low.

“Kane.  He heard us on the phone or something earlier.  I think,” Roman tossed Seth into the turnbuckle as lightly as he could, which still left Rollins wincing in pain.  Roman approached, grabbed Seth by the hair, getting in his face.

Seth scrunched his face in anger, trying to make it look convincing, but his voice was relatively free of malice when he said “You think he’s gonna make a move tonight?”

“No idea, but if he does, I’ve got your backs,” Roman said before hip tossing Seth to the ground.  He threw his hair back before bending over and picking Seth back up to his feet.

“Then why are you hurting me?” Seth asked.

“Because I am still extremely pissed off at you for the betrayal and everything after it,” Roman said, headbutting Rollins hard.

Seth went down to one knee, trying to shake off the daze.  Roman grabbed his shoulders, pulling him to his feet again.  And that was when Kane’s music hit.

Both men turned to watch the Director of Operations as he headed towards ringside, turning their backs to the corner where Dean was meant to be waiting.

Kane smiled up at Roman and Seth, leading to Seth yelling down at him “What the hell is going-”

As the chair connected with his back, Seth Rollins decided that poetic justice was absolute bullshit.

 

Backstage, Hunter and Stephanie watched with smug satisfaction as Dean Ambrose continued his attack on Roman and Seth.  It eventually led to Kane entering the ring, grabbing Seth by the neck and chokeslamming him.

“You see,” Hunter said.  “That’s what’s best for business.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brothers reunite, a plan comes together and medical applications of cookware.

As he came to in the darkness of a back corner of the arena, there was a blissful moment where Seth thought that everything since June had been a terrible dream or his visit from the Ghost of Wrestling Future and he could change, he could keep that future from happening.

Then he heard Roman’s voice from somewhere behind him. “I am getting really tired of getting attacked from behind by people who are supposed to be my friends.”

Seth turned his head, hissing at the pain radiating through his body. “What the hell happened?”

“Ambrose,” Roman said. “Kane got our attention, Dean blasted you from behind with a chair. Sound familiar?”

Seth was having trouble following that train of thought. Or any train of thought. “Where’s my briefcase?”

Roman snorted. “That’s what you’re worried about? Your damn briefcase? Kane took it with him when he and Ambrose left. You were a little unconscious at the time.”

Seth closed his eyes. “I screwed up everything, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” was all Roman said in reply, lowering his head and hiding behind a curtain of dark hair.

Rollins opened his eyes again, glaring at the ceiling. “How do we get Dean back?”

“I don’t think he wants us around right now,” Roman said.

“No,” Seth sat up, grabbing at his lower ribs. “I mean how do we get the actual Dean Ambrose who wants me dead back? How do we get his memories back?”

Roman shrugged. “There’s gotta be a Bed Bath and Beyond or something on our way to the next show.”

“What...wait, what does that have to do with anything?” Seth asked.

“Well, we’re gonna need a frying pan,” Roman said.

Seth was beginning to worry that he was concussed, because none of this was making sense. “For what?”

“To hit him over the head with.”

“This is not the Flintstones,” Seth said.

“You have a better idea?” Roman asked.

Seth sighed. “No punching, no frying pans. I’ll think of something.”

“That’s what you were always good for,” Roman said, gruffly.

Seth hesitated. “You’re doing fine without me.”

“Never said I wasn’t,” Roman said.

“You just suggested hitting Dean over the head with a frying pan to cure his amnesia,” Seth said.

Roman glared at him. “I know I was just the meathead in your little plan, Rollins, but believe it or not I’m capable of making a joke now and then.”

“You weren’t…” Seth sighed. “Don’t make it sound like that.”

“Like what?” Roman snapped. “Like you spent two years using two guys who would have taken a damn bullet for you? Like you had the fucking nerve to throw around a term like ‘brotherhood’ when it meant shit to you?”

“Okay, I get it, I am the scum of the Earth,” Seth shot back, finally sitting up and facing Roman.

“No, you don’t get it,” Roman said. “You are worse than scum. There is no word low enough for you. You betrayed your family.” He locked eyes with Seth. “You broke our hearts.”

Seth jerked back from Reigns, not out of fear but out of shock at seeing the utter sadness and pain in his eyes. “You hate me,” Seth said, stupidly.

“Yeah,” Roman said. “But I remember loving you.” He looked away. “Ambrose doesn’t even get that much.”

 

 

The word went out that week via an official announcement from Triple H that “The Authority has chosen to part ways with Seth Rollins.” There was more to it, including Hunter stating that if it were feasible he would be stripping Seth of the Money in the Bank briefcase, but the gist of it was clear: Seth was on The Authority’s hit list again.

And, as the last few days had proven, being on the outs with The Authority didn’t exactly get him back in with Roman. They were at least traveling together again, for protection’s sake, they’d agreed. But, as Roman had very clearly stated, “This does NOT make us friends again.” Seth had nodded in response, settling into the passenger's seat and doing his best to ignore how easy and familiar this all was.

Just as easy and familiar as settling into a hotel room and falling asleep to Roman’s light snoring. As easy as rushing to the bathroom first in the morning to shower because Roman’s hair routine alone took forever. As easy as long silences during car rides…

“You’re still my little brother,” Roman said.

It was the first thing he’d said in hours, outside of grumbling in the hotel room as they were packing to leave. In fact, it was the first real thing he’s said to Seth since they’d left the arena after Dean’s attack.

“You’ll always be my little brother,” Roman continued. “I don’t hate you. I can’t. Because whether you wanna accept it or not, we were all brothers. You, me and Dean.”

Quietly, Seth said “I know.”

Roman huffed. “What happened to ‘business partners?’”

“You knew that was bullshit,” Seth said, looking out his window. “Of course you guys were my brothers. I couldn’t have kept hurting you like this if you weren’t. And that’s what the Authority hired me to do. Hurt you.”

“Okay, but why? Why’d you do it, man?” Roman smacked the palm of his hand against the steering wheel.

“Because for once somebody wanted me,” Seth snapped. “Because it wasn’t about you or Dean, The Authority came to me first, specifically, with the deal. I was the first ever NXT champion, Roman. But in The Shield I got treated like I was the one who was gonna get left behind when we finally went our separate ways. You were the rising star and Dean was the mouthpiece and I was just Seth Rollins.”

Roman drove in silence for a bit before saying “Just Seth Rollins was the guy I wanted to learn everything I could from. And the same guy Dean either wanted to kiss or kick, I don’t think he was ever sure which.”

“He’s done both anyway,” Seth said. “Covered all his bases.”

 

“Let me tell you a story about Seth Rollins,” Dean Ambrose began the following Monday on RAW, in the ring in one of his new suits and a table with something draped in a black cloth sitting on top of it. “Let me tell you a story about that lying, cheating, betraying backstabber Seth Rollins.

“Seth Rollins built The Shield to get himself into the WWE. To get himself as high up on the ladder as he could. And then, when he didn’t need us any more, he destroyed us.”

Dean let out an un-amused snort of a laugh. “You know what he got from that? He got money. He got power. He got all the perks, the limos and the nice hotel rooms and ALL the benefits that come with being The Authority’s Golden Boy. And all he had to do was turn on his ‘brothers.’ All he had to do was things like THIS.”

He pointed to the Titantron, which proceeded to roll the footage of Rollins curbstomping his head into the cinderblocks.

“And yet here I am,” Ambrose continued. “Just fine, right? Yeah, except for up here.” He tapped his temple with a single finger. “I mean, apparently I was never quite right up there, but I’ve gotta take other people’s word for it. Because I don’t remember any of it. I woke up in a hospital with no ID, no clue who I was, no memories. Total retrograde amnesia.

“And Seth Rollins? You know what Seth Rollins does? He finds me. He checks me out of the hospital. And he tries to turn me into his bodyguard. His damn attack dog. You know how I know this? Because Triple H saw it and he told me. He told me that Rollins needed to learn what happens when your dog bites back. And he-”

“DEAN! Dean, listen!” Seth’s face filled the Titantron, his voice almost desperate. “Yeah, Dean, I have done some terrible things. And I need to make up for them. The Authority used me, Dean. And you’re not stupid. You have to know that all they’re doing is using you.”

“Of course they’re using me!” Dean rasped into the mic. “That’s all anyone has ever done. That’s what I’m good for! But now I’m getting used and you know what I’m getting out of it? I’m getting money. I’m getting power. I’m getting all the perks, the limos and the nice hotel rooms and ALL the benefits. Because, let’s face it, Seth, gold was never your color.”

Ambrose reached over and pulled the black cloth off of the table, revealing a brand new, undamaged golden briefcase with the words MONEY IN THE BANK emblazoned on it. Dean grabbed the briefcase with his free hand and held it above his head, staring down the image of Seth on the giant screen before him.

“So let’s find out how it looks on ME.”


End file.
